


Robbery

by DidjaMissMe



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Bank Robbery, Crime fic, Flys in ski masks, I hate these stupid idiots, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Murder Husbands, They're holding hands at the end of this fic I just know it, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DidjaMissMe/pseuds/DidjaMissMe
Summary: "A bank, Jim?! Have you gone mad?" Sebastian said, crawling out of the cab, and looking at the looming building ahead.  
Moriarty stood calmly, buttoning his jacket with all the ease in the world. "Don't be daft, Tiger. We've done worse." -------Or, how a bank robbery gets them into something deeper than they're used to.(based off a tumblr prompt)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt "Seb and Jim go rob a bank and then some other crimnals also rob the same back so now theyre trapped in the bank being robbed"
> 
> Key word: based cause I gotta twist this somehow
> 
> yell at me at: victorianwatson.tumblr.com  
> or thank the muse at: victoriansherlock.tumblr.com

It had been a long year. A new branch of the spider-web now stretched across East Asia, and the effort it took to assure dominance, set up bolt holes, hide the bodies, and the incredulous amount of hacking – Seb was fucking done. Late nights and early mornings, meeting after meeting, evading the police in four separate countries... Seb feels like he sees Jim more through a protective scope watching a "diplomatic meeting" than in person nowadays. But it was from his position on the roof staring into the building across, that Seb could see the effect this had, even on Jim. He wore the same suit twice in one week, something that Jim has told Seb before " _is the true crime of our industry"_. He stared into space when supposed alone, which made Seb want to climb down from his perch and slap him away from the vulnerable position Jim would never see himself fall into, if he could. Most "meetings" ended more often than not with a kill shot (which actually might have sped up the process of the new branch, now that he thinks about it). But one thing was for certain. 

They needed a break. 

So Seb had drew up a plan. He spent one of their first nights back in their apartment together, awake, lying in bed on the laptop, trying to keep the brightness down to let Jim stay curled up and asleep on Seb's side. By the time Jim's eyes opened late that afternoon, Seb had airline tickets, hotel stays, and food plans laid out on a neat file. 

His vacation proposal had been greeted with a rare smile, and the following night spent in a rewarding bliss. 

The problem came to the numbers. Now, when Seb had researched their travels he knew there wasn't quite a budget in mind. Jim has been known to buy expensive, hand done furniture just to stain it with blood as Tiger stripes. All it took was one look at Jim in his westwood and silk to  _know_  he doesn't need to waste his time with something so trivial as  _money._  

"Do you want me to put it on the card?" Seb had asked from the laptop on the table one day, paying for the airline online (they may or may not have just bought out the entire jet). 

"The  _card?!_ " Jim called from the kitchen, coming out as a domestic sight of sweatpants and a hot mug. "Have I taught you nothing?" He sat down across from Sebastian. "Too traceable," he muttered over the top of the mug. 

"Not if we divide up between multiple cards," Sebastian offered, thinking of the multiple banks and accounts and balances the finances were split between. 

Jim scowled, and opened his mouth to definitely disagree- 

-then he stopped. And smiled. And made that unwavering eye contact with Sebastian that just  _thrilled._  

"No." 

"But you haven't even heard my idea-" 

"I said, no. I know that look, and last time you had that look I almost lost a foot." 

"Oh c'mon  _Sebby_ , don't be such a grump." 

He leveled a look towards Jim, trying to convey his defiance. 

"I just wanted to stretch my legs, after being cooped up inside all day. Who knows what sort of trouble I can get up to in such a small confined space..." 

His look fell. "Fine," Seb snapped. The manic grin that spread across Jim's face warned Seb of what he just agreed to. 

* * *

"A  _bank,_ Jim?! Have you gone mad?" Sebastian said, crawling out of the cab, and looking at the looming building ahead.  

Moriarty stood calmly, buttoning his jacket with all the ease in the world. "Don't be daft, Tiger. We've done worse."  

"Yeah sure, but both of us, out in the field? That's a rarity since... what, years?" Seb followed Jim's sure steps forward, holding the door open for his boss. As he followed him in, Jim stopped him with a turn of his head to talk quietly. 

"Remember, you're a customer here. As if you need access to our safety deposit box," Seb nodded subtely in confirmation. "Just be grateful I'm not making you wear a ski mask. They're so  _tacky_." And he continued walking, shoes clicking across the marble tile, and echoing off the dark wood and gold adorned great hall. Seb took his position a pace behind Jim and to his left, enjoying the awe and power Jim seems to leave in his aura and how he takes control of the room by simply existing.  

_With all the grandeur of Rome_.... Seb thought to himself. 

"Recon," Jim whispered over his shoulder again, while positioning himself to look busy at one of the mahogany tables in the center of the grand room. Seb walked past him to one of the many caged tellers against the wall. 

He greeted the young teller with a smile, "Safety deposit boxes?"  

"You'll want to talk to Maria over there," she said gesturing to the teller booths down the way, and the sign hanging over labeled "Safety Deposit" in a fancy scroll. "She can take your name and bring you your key." 

"Thank you," Sebastian said with a wink, before turning around and heading back to Jim. Jim was leaning against one of the center tables now, fiddling with his phone.  

"You flirt," Jim greeted him with an eyeroll. 

"I only got a look," Seb ignored the jab and straightened his tie, uncomfortable with the suit with the aspect of danger coming, "but every other teller has a buzzer right under their hand. Silent alarm, most likely a direct line to the police. There's no way to come in guns blazing, if that was your plan." 

"Hmmm, nope," Jim said humming, not looking up from the phone. "We go to the boxes. We ...disable the teller who will no doubt accompany us, and use the keys to loot like pirates." 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Seems pretty simple for a plan of yours." 

"Let's just say I'm excited to get home," Jim winked before turning his full attention back to his phone, fingers buzzing across the screen. 

"And the cameras?" 

"Working on it," Jim gestured with his phone. 

"Still? Getting a little slow, are we?" Seb teasingly whispered. 

"Getting a little fat, are we?" Jim bit back. Seb smiled. Jim didn't. 

"What's wrong?" Seb asked. 

"Shut up," Jim's fingers flew even faster across the screen. 

"Boss, if something-" 

"Shut  _up_." Silence followed. "Someone else is hacking the system." 

"Other than you? Are you sure its not a defense line in the coding?" 

"I know what I'm doing. And someone else is hacking the bank's syst-" Jim stopped, and looked up at Seb. "Prepare for a blackout." 

The lights turned off. People screamed. 

Jim locked his phone, turning off the bright screen and plunging them into darkness.  

It was instinct to reach out and grab Jim by the neck, to know where he is and feel every twitch and move. Seb placed himself in front of Jim, making them face each other, but more importantly placing Sebs back to the danger. 

"God, you're such a tiger," Jim snarled. Seb knew he wasn't ...happy... about this change of events. 

"Was this...you?" Seb asked, leaning in closer.  

Jim was silent in the loud confusion of others around them. 

"Why do I have the feeling you just rolled your eyes at me?" 

"Oh 'Bastian, you know me so well," Jim replied. Seb could feel him shift and turn his head to try and see in the dark. He gripped Sebastian's forearm, connecting them both to each other to feel instead of see. They knew each other and they knew how to handle this situation. 

The lights flickered back on, and a collective sigh released tension from the room. 

"Backup generator," Jim whispered in his ear. Seb tried not to think of the chill of his breath against his skin and closed his eyes. Jim slapped him as the lights turned off and the people screamed again. "Will you get your mind out of the gutter? They shut off the generator-" 

"-which would cut the power to the silent alarms, cameras-" Seb  interrupted, speaking into the side of Jim's neck. 

"And locks. We're caught in the middle of a robbery." 

"Isn't that why we came?" Seb teased into Jim, leaving behind a bite. 

"I swear to God, if you don't pull it together, you will be arrested for indecent exposure." 

"Not you?" 

"Napoleon of crime, remember Sebby?" 

"Yet I know all of Napoleon's kinks," Seb said with another bite in the dark. 

"All? Getting a bit cocky ar-" This time the interruption came from the lights flashing back on and a machine gun rattling off into the ceiling. 

" _Everybody get down!"_  

Sebastian rolled his eyes, and slowly lowered himself to the floor, hands in the air. Moriarty stayed standing in defiance, radiating power and rage and  _You cant tell me what to do_.  

"For fucks sake," Seb snarled, tugging on Moriarty's arm till he fell down kneeling across from his sniper. He stared through Sebastian, eyes showing the frustration and well, Moriarty. Seb levelled him with a look, pulling his focus back in. Seb could watch the resignation before Jim curled up into a ball, head in knees, and shaking. 

_And hello, Rich Brooke._ Seb thought, grabbing Jim closer, once more connecting his hand to Jim's neck. 

"Shh," Seb whispered to Jim, playing along. Quieter, he added "Five of them. All heavily armed. Oh, and wearing the ski masks."  

"God, its  _so tacky_ ," Jim complained into the snipers chest.  Sebastian sat there and watched as the five men rounded everyone into the center, cuffing a few employees and kicking people into place. He kept tabs on the locations and exits, reporting everything to his Boss through supposed "comforting" whispers for the "scared victim". It was working well. He could feel Jim's fingers twitching and tapping against his body where he sat curled up against Sebastian, a tell-tale sign of a plan formulating in the mastermind's brain.  

One of the gunmen circled around, coming to their side of the table. Seb did a quick calculation, not able to get as many details as Jim would, but trying his damndest to remember what Jim had taught him.  _Lefty_ , as Seb now dubbed him in his mind, had a twitchy left finger, excited through the violence, and showing his dominant hand. His ski mask was tight across a thick face, and the lack of a neck gave him the build of a wrestler. He stopped in front of them, and Seb felt his blood thicken at the idea of a confrontation, and yet refused to avert his eyes. Leftygrunted, calling over a tall thing with piercing blue eyes through the ski mask. The way  _Blue_ held himself and responded to the other set him aside as the leader, if not up there on the hierarchy. 

"What?" Blue snapped at the interruption. Lefty gestured to them with the gun, and Seb had a sinking feeling of recognition.  _That's it. We are totally getting Jim a stunt double after this._  

_"Seb, what's going on?"_  Was so quiet into his chest, Jim questioning the lack of recon being whispered into his ear. 

Blue narrowed his eyes at Sebastian, the ex-military man still refusing to avert his gaze. "You," Blue pointed with his semi-automatic, "Up." 

Sebastian started to untangle himself and stand, slowly as to warn Jim, raising his arms into the air.  

"No, no no no," Jim – No,  _Richard_  frantically tried to cling on and bring him back down. Seb lowered himself slightly, reaching a hand down to Jim's shoulder as comfort. 

"It's okay, just stay down," Seb played along with the roles, feeling Jim's 'frantic' grabbing slip Sebs gun out from his waistline and covertly hiding it on Jim's own body.  _Brilliant._  Sebastian rose again, arms resting behind his head, and faced the two men again. In his peripherals he saw two more by the entrance, trying to block the windows, and another pacing by the other hostages. 

"Check him," was followed by strange hands, rough and quick to turn him around and check all the classic hiding spots, including the now-empty slot. Seb felt naked. 

Blues gun twitched to the left, a clear message of  _Get over there_ _._  

"No, I- I can't," Sebastian automatically replied. Now, Seb was a fighter. He didn't sneak around, he didn't lie and act for recon. His duty to his cause was spent through patience and seen through scopes. So when the gun rose to take aim to his chest and a voice grunted out " _And why not?"_ Sebastian was not quick with his thoughts and sharpened improvisation to be able to jump into a character such as Brooke the scared victim or Jim the gay intern.  

"Cause you can't. I - we cant be seperated," the ever witty sniper replied. He could almost feel the knife Jim would be dragging along his skin tonight as punishment for his stumbling tongue and – probably – most likely – inevitability -- to blow their cover.  

"And why the fuck not?" Lefty grunted, taking aim as well. "Gonna miss your faggot boyfriend?"  

And see, Seb truly isn't an actor. He can't disconnect himself, and he can't try to place himself in another's shoes. So the anger he felt swell at that call was well and truly his own. And oh god, was he angry. He was annoyed at these amatuer ski-mask-wearing robbers, wanting nothing more to swat them like the flies they were. He felt shame in having to be one of the "victims", and disgust at them expecting him to be trembling into the carpet at a little gunshot. He was Sebastian fucking Moran, the righthand man to the most notorious ringmaster and deadliest spider in the web. The tsunami under his skin was exciting, and Seb could feel the adrenaline pumping, ready to trip these pigs, plug them full of lead, and leave them bare and hogtied in the street before they could even stick their tongues back in their mouth.  

Fucking dammit, he was used to a such better class of criminal. 

These ignorant bastards would be whimpering with their tails between their legs if the knew who they had curled up on the floor behind Sebastian. They would be pleading for quick death at the gallows if they knewthey had just offended _The_ Jim Moriarty. And they should be drowning in their own blood, sweat, and tears for assuming that their ignorance would protect him. 

Of course, Sebastian couldn't do any of the wonderfully delicious scenarios running through his mind. The police were on their way, and Jim obviously had a plan for this. Probably a nice, simple plan that would leave these Ski Masks as a scapegoat, and where the true criminals could stroll out of here with heavy pockets and hopefully a lighter gun.  

That doesn't mean Sebastian wasn't going to fight them though. And boy, did he want to fight. To hurt. At least to  _prove them_ _wrong_. So, of course, quick-witted as he is, Sebastian said "No, you dumbass, he's my husband." 

It wasn't until Blue crouched down to look at Jim, and Sebastian automatically opened his stance to place a foot between Jim and the leader, that Sebastian remembered. He remembered that Jim was right behind him still, he remembered the gun pointed to his chest, but most frighteningly of all, he remembered what words just left his mouth.  _Jim will definitely scar me for this._  

"I don't see any rings," Blue said, standing back up, moving the gun from Sebastian, to Jim who still was curled up in a ball of  _Richard Brooke_.  

"Well, maybe I haven't proposed yet, you fucker." 

"Hey – watch that tongue if you want to keep it." Sebs fists tightened where they were, still raised and behind his head. He didn't need to take orders from them. He didn't want to take orders from them. God, it was hard to play stupid for this side of the crime. 

"Oh honey," a voice came from below. Jim – _No, wait, "Richard"_ \- was kneeling up, looking adorably doe eyed between Sebastian and the gun pointed at him.  

_Fuck,_ Sebastian thought to himself.  _I should learn how to act._  

"I – uh, I wanted to surprise you. There was- there was dinner. And a park. That bench, at the park, uh – I was gonna pick up grams rings from the box here, and uh-" Seb wasn't sure if he stopped by Jim's voice echoing in his head  _Only lies have details,_ or by the shine in Jims –  _Richards?_ \- eyes. 

"Alright you idiots, just shut up." Blue interrupted. Seb felt another punch fast approaching Blues future when Jim flinched at Blues interruption. Fake or not, it still hurt to have to see Jim in that way. "Matt, take him to the other wall."  

At his command one of the window guards peeked up and trotted over, the semi-automatic seeming far too big for the overgrown puppy. Seb wanted to vomit at the blind faith and utter control, but kept his cool as "Matt" pulled his hands down from behind his head and used him to lead him away from Jim and towards the second group of hostages sitting against the wall opposite the windows - a good distance away from Jim.  

_Shit._ Their cover worked well together, Jim able to hide his face from cameras and criminals who might recognize (Usually Jim would leave the survivors to be shot by his sniper, or eyes scratched out by his tiger, but every once in a while Jim would leave a poor lone soul to see the trauma and spread rumors of the power.) But Jim would hide and Seb would act as his eyes, his armor, and his ever-loyal pet. 

But its pretty hard to do that a hundred feet away. 

Seb shot his head back, not much of a struggle against "Matt", trying to make eye contact with Jim. 

Jim, who was being roughly shoved back down to the floor, next to an older lady with as many pearls as years on her. Jim, who tried standing again only to be brought down by a slap. 

The sound echoed across the marble tiled bank, and Sebs heart stopped. The last thing he saw was the pure blank look on Jim's face before Matt forced Seb to look forward, but oh no, that wouldn't do. Seb stomped on Matts foot, felt the hands fly off his arms in shock and pain, giving Seb enough momentum to turn back to Jim, to see Jim. Then Matt and another clueless fly was holding him back, barricading him, and Seb wanted to scream.  _You idiots! He'll kill you all, let me at him! You don't get to slap Jim and breathe-_  

Seb, expecting the façade to break and Moriarty to shine through Brooke, was expecting retaliation from the slap, violent and echoing and this to be their chance to take back the control of the room, was well and truly shocked to see Jim curled up against the grandma to his right, and further confused to see his body racked with sobs. 

_Well if he won't kill you, I sure as hell will - whether he's acting or not, you don't put Jim in that position and get to hear the clock tick._

The storm underneath Seb's skin was back, full force and ready to watch faces turn blue under the ski-masks. But by then Matt and Other Fly had him cuffed to himself and slammed against the teller windows across the room, in between other hostages. That's what they were now – hostages. But Jim had a plan, Jim was no ordinary hostage, Jim would be okay - 

"Yes!" Jim's whisper called across the room and - 

They were clapping. The ordinary hostages were... clapping? It took a deep breath or two for Seb to open his eyes and see the other bank visitors softly clapping, and either looking down at the floor or a few brave ones looking at him and Jim. It was another three deep breaths before Seb realized – They think they had just seen a boyfriend propose, then fight through the assailants to try and protect his – now fiance apparently – after being assaulted. 

Seb could have smiled at the stupidity of it all, of them all, when his eyes flew across to find Jim's. 

It was a light smile, a soft smile, a rare smile on Jim's face. And Seb wasn't sure if it was " _staying in character_ " or not, but Seb returned it with a huff and a smile to rival a sharks, wide enough to hide the tears collecting in his eyes. 

Acting or not, doesn't mean Seb can't pretend. 

* * *

Hours passed. 

And even for a sniper, those hours were long and drawn out and tiresome. 

The hours were spent in silence; the later it got, the more brave the hostages got, willing to whisper quietly to each other or cry into another's shoulder - till a gun shot off into the ceiling with a  _"Quiet!"_  . Honestly, these guys were no fun. An eye roll always followed, then Seb went back to observing.  

Hours worth of observing, and nothing to gain from it. 

Seb would watch the guards by the front report to Blue, and watch Blue pace frantically between a phone on a table and the closest wall. Seb would watch as Lefty and some other thug was left to pace along the hostages, not afraid to kick feet closer or spit down on them. Seb would watch as Jim leaned into the elderly lady next to him to whisper something, and them both fall back to their spots with a silent laugh on their face. Seb would watch those two share smiles behind the ski masks' backs. Seb would watch the guards keep a special eye on him, and make sure to cut their rounds to cross his view whenever he made eye contact with Jim. 

What a bunch of prissies. 

Seb would watch, and miss his scope and his roof. The only advantage he had to being at the scene of the crime was being able to listen - but the godawful plans of the Ski Masks were grating to his ears, only relieved by the deafening gunshot and " _Quiet!"_  about every thirty minutes. 

God, it's been eternity within each hour. 

At least when he's under the scope he'd be lain flat against a rooftop, be able to feel the sun beat down or the rain soak through. At least when he's holding his rifle he could feel the cold metal under his hands and the scratch cement floors he's so used to lying on. At least when he's doing a job for Jim he could stretch out his feet in front of him without being kicked back, or not have two sweaty disgusting pigs on either side of him, or not have to smell the kid three people down who peed his pants - twice. 

He'd kill to be able to stand and stretch. 

Well, okay, maybe that's not the best choice of words, but you get the point - It's hard. 

The phone rings and Blue doesn't even hesitate before picking up yet another phone call with the police negotiator. Seb wanted to scream at the elementary crime. He looked over to Jim, to find him accepting a wrapped candy from Grams. 

Blue brags that he has the cameras turned off and would be able to kill any one of his victims without the police knowing. He rattled a few shots into the ceiling to prove a point. The crowd stiffens and silences, and Seb just thinks  _What a waste of ammo._   

Blue affirms that they have the bank connected to their own source of power now, and that the police can't stop him at this point. 

Blue asks for a police car to a private airstrip, and not to be followed.  

Seb could cry. Everything he could have done right, and this child is fucking it up and asking to have his face plastered all over the news. His tacky, ski-mask-covered face. His dramatic eye-roll ended at the stare from Jim - the unwavering, unblinking, stare from none other than Jim Moriarty. 

_Fucking finally._  

Blue hangs up the phone, and Seb feels like he could leap to his feet in excitement. Jim beats him to it, standing up with grace and poise, buttoning his jacket with all the power that follows the phrase of  _Moriarty's here. And Daddy's not happy._  

The guns fall aim to him - all five - and Blue grits a quick "Sit the fuck down." 

Moriarty ignores him, stretches his neck, and stares Blue down as he calmly states "Alright Tiger, we're done here." 

The shark teeth smile out a "Oh  _fuck_ yes," as Seb well and truly leaps to his feet, and punches the passing-by guard in the jaw. That was followed by left hand uppercut, and a swift throw of both hands on his head, effectively knocking him out. He's already crossed over the unconscious body with an arm around the next guards throat, holding him flush against himself to take the rattling of bullets now whipping towards his direction.  

He keeps walking, feeling the slight kick of the guard he's holding and the gurgling sounding beneath his arm. 

He throws the unnamed thug at someone – oh look it's fucking  _Matt_  - He uses the delay of Matt pushing off his fellow fly to approach, close enough to kick in the crotch and punch upwards and through the sickening crack of Matt's neck breaking. Seb turns around to see Lefty taking a swing with just enough time to duck and dodge. When he comes back up, fist cocked, it gets held back by none other than Blue, as Lefty shoves the butt of his gun against Seb's head. 

He fell, knees taking the aching brunt of the impact, head swimming from the knock. A kick to his back sends Seb sprawling against the floor. Using his position, Seb reaches out to the nearest hunk of skin – Lefty's right shin – and  _bites._ He doesn't let go as the leg shakes, and with each hit, punch, and kick Seb feels as he lies on the ground, he just grounds his teeth. There's blood dripping down his chin by the time Seb is pulled up by his hair and comes face to face with Blue. Although it's an unfair fight of 2 to 1, Seb smiles right into Blues face, taking pleasure in the disgust that flew across as Seb spit blood into Blue. 

A well-placed punch into his stomach, and Seb can feel the breath get forced out. He doubles over habitually, and laughs as the gun cracks against his back. Lying at Blues feet he can feel Lefty reign chaos upon him, and he just laughs. He spins around and grabs Lefty's – still bleeding – foot, knocking him down a peg or two as well. Before the brute has a chance to suck in a deep breath, Seb is straddling on top of him, fists flying and punches landing in repetitive motion, in momentous rhythm, gaining speed with each impact.   

And for as much as Sebastian missed his scope, it's been far too long since he's had the chance to kill without a gun, and  _damn_  if he will not appreciate it. 

Briefly lost in the fury, Seb forgets about the leader standing behind him, till the gunshot  _cracks_  and echoes against the marble tile.

The body of Blue fell to the ground next to Sebastian, the hole in the back of the head oozing. Seb rolls off and looks up to see Jim Moriarty, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn, Sebastian's own trusty gun still aimed and smoking.  

_That bastard,_  Seb thinks, head lolling down to hit the tile below with a  _thunk_  and a sigh. 

* * *

 

 They walk out the back door, away from the incompetent police unknowing of the true crime that just took place.  

_Always walk away from the scene. It doesn't arouse any suspicion, and looks a lot sexier,_ Jim's voice rings in his head as they exit the ally and join the throng of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. They walk side by side at a relaxed pace, the sun is out, and the public is none the wiser. 

"I swiped our winnings from the teller desk by the door," Seb breaks the silence, moving his hand from his pocket to show Jim the wad of notes mixed with the bloody tissues from a hasty cleanup. 

"Hmm," was Jim's only reply before pulling out of his own pocket. "The old lady gave me candies from her purse." 

"You bastard," Seb smirked, quickly taking one of the candies from his hand and popping it into his mouth.  _Mint. Doesn't quite mix with the flavor of blood._  

"Oh, and Seb?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Call up the hotel. Change the penthouse to the honeymoon suite."  

"Wh- wait, what? Why?" 

"Well, you did just propose to me by bank robbery." 

Seb stopped, almost choking on the pocket mint, before chuckling and quickly catching up to Jim's non-stop movement. "Whatever you say, Boss." 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm loving these so please send more at  
> victorianwatson.tumblr.com


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